Chapter 10 - Conclusion AN: Thank you for the nice reviews. This was my first attempt at something like this, and the words of support were wonderful. Of course, I had lots of support, especially from Kamikaze, Draccone, Juliet and Ponga. Thanks, ladies. I hope anyone who read it enjoyed the story. I know it was dark and violent, but that just seems to be the way my mind has a habit of working. I am working on my next story, which is also AU/historical, so I'm afraid the first chapter is really a history lesson; so I hope everyone will bear with me and not fall asleep like they did in history class. History has always been my passion. Later! ___________________________ All but two of Brian's senses seem to have shut down. It seems that he can only hear and smell. He can hear the sound of the gunshot that had come from outside seemingly to reverberate again and again inside his brain. He can hear Stockwell making some pitiful panting sound trying to regain his senses as he lays sprawled on the floor. He can hear the sound of the little pieces of glass as they fall out of the glazing around the window that Justin and Charlie just crashed through. But it seems the most horrible sense of all is smell right now; he can smell gunpowder and blood as it drifts in on the air from outside. Slowly Brian starts to feel. He can feel his feet start to tingle, as if they have been in an uncomfortable position and fallen asleep. And then his digits start to tingle, too. He can feel Stockwell's gun in his grip. He can also feel when it slips out of his grip, and he hears the sound it makes as it falls onto the floor of the cabin. Finally it seems that sight is coming back. Everything seems to be in a weird shade of red, like the lighting gel from a photo shoot. He shakes his head slightly as if to clear his brain from a hangover. He looks down at Stockwell, still sees him half knocked out on the floor; sees the glass as it's falling onto the floor; sees the trees as they bend in the breeze, still bringing to him the smell of the gunpowder and blood from outside. Brian almost seems hesitant to go outside, afraid of what he'll find there. He finds himself whispering, almost as if it will become his mantra, "please be all right, please be all right, please be all right." He really doesn't remember how he got there, but he finds himself standing over the two bodies. Justin has his back up against the pine tree, and Charlie's body is slumped over him, his back to Brian. Brian hesitantly asks, "Justin, are you all right?" Again the mantra begins again, "please be all right, please be all right, please be all right." All he gets from Justin is a stare, eyes uncomprehending. Brian thinks that maybe he's wrong, Justin is dead, too, but then he sees the shallow breaths that Justin seems to be taking as the pool of blood slowly forms around his outstretched legs. All Brian can think is thank God it's the asshole's blood and not Justin's. It is the asshole's blood, right? I'm not wrong, am I? "Please be all right, please be all right, please be all right." As Brian reaches down to remove Charlie's limp and lifeless body from on top of Justin, he's suddenly becoming afraid of what he'll find. Maybe Justin was actually hurt, even though he doesn't seem to be in pain, only slightly out of it. God, Kinney, who the fuck are you kidding? Slightly out of it? The kid is a mess. He has the 100-mile stare that veterans of wars talk about; eyes that have seen too much, so much that they have shut out the world and can't comprehend what's going on around them. Thankfully he can detect no damage to Justin, just his trembling hands clutching the Glock that he somehow got away from Charlie. Brian kneels in front of Justin, slowly reaching for the gun, as Justin deliberately brings it up and points it in the direction of Brian's head. "Justin, it's me. It's Brian. You're all right now. There is no more danger," Brian slowly and patiently tries to tell Justin. Brian slowly raises his hands in front of him, almost in a posture of surrender. "Justin, I'm not going to hurt you. It's Brian. I have nothing in my hands. Please let me help you." Justin seem to somehow start to comprehend and finally takes a long deep breath, letting the gun sink to his lap. He blinks a few times and finally says, "Brian? What happened?" As Brian begins to answer, Justin suddenly brings the gun back up in Brian's direction, but slightly to his left. Again the sound of gunshots reverberates in Brian's brain. He finally thinks that he will never get that noise out of his mind. Startled, he looks behind him as he sees Stockwell fall, the gun Brian had dropped inside the cabin in his grasp. Brian quickly looks back to Justin just in time to see the veil cover his eyes again. Whatever comprehension was starting to become apparent has slipped back into the recesses of Justin's mind. Suddenly Brian realizes that Justin is positioning the gun under his chin with a trembling hand and is starting to squeeze the trigger. "Justin, NO!!" Brian lunges at Justin, dislodging the gun from his grasp as two rounds fire safely up into the treetop. ____________________ Brian has absolutely no clue how long he sat in front of Justin under the pine tree. The next thing he knows, Carl has put his hand on his shoulder and is slightly shaking him. "Brian, what the fuck happened here?" Carl asks as he looks at the two lifeless bodies around them. It seems all that Brian is capable of doing is to take in all that has started happening around him. He finally notices the four Maine State Police cruisers that have pulled up in front of the cabin, the crime scene van, and the EMT's that have sprinted over to them, medical bags in hand to check on the bodies and then finally on Justin. "Carl, it's a long story. Maybe right now isn't the time. Justin needs help." Brian watches as the EMT's lay Justin flat on the ground. Brian only seems to comprehend a few words: Unresponsive, catatonic, shock. ____________________ As Brian paces the hall in front of the viewing window into the exam room, he can see Justin still sitting in the corner on the floor, the doctor trying to coax him, without using the orderlies, up onto the examining table. Nothing seems to be working. Giving a huff of impatience, Brian quietly enters the room, trying not to give off an aura of anger or frustration. He slowly sits on his knees and looks at Justin. "Justin, you have to let the doctor look at you. He just needs to make sure you're okay." No response. "Mr. Kinney, I really don't want to sedate him, considering how docile he is right now, but I will if I have to. If he remains unresponsive, we're going to have to move him to the psychiatric ward, and I will have to get the orderlies to do that." "Justin, please, just sit up on the table for me," Brian pleads. No reponse. As the doctor takes a deep breath, he motions to the two orderlies who have been standing at the exam room door. The movement startles Brian, but seems to startle Justin even more. Brian swears that if Justin could, he would dig a hole in the wall and crawl in, as he desperately tries to make himself even smaller as the men approach him. Suddenly Brian hears Justin start to whisper. "No, no, no, no, no." Over and over again, it continues. "All right, boys, that's close enough." Brian has had enough of this bullshit. "Doc, do you want to traumatize him even more? Do you realize that in the last 72 hours this kid, in order to survive, has killed three people; that the last person he killed was to save me? Just give me more time, see if I can get him to respond to me." Brian slowly kneels in front of Justin again, reaching out to him. This time Justin does not pull back, but actually looks at Brian's hands. "Justin, I'm going to take your hands now," Brian says as he slowly moves to take Justin's hands. Brian is buoyed by the fact that Justin actually lets him touch him. Brian slowly starts to stand up, bringing Justin with him. He gets no resistance this time. Brian starts to take small steps as he inches his way backwards toward the examing table, and Justin follows him. Finally at the table, Brian puts his hands around Justin's waist and lifts him onto the table. Brian realizes that during all of this his mantra never left him: please be all right, please be all right, please be all right. ____________________ As Brian steps out of the bathroom in the hotel room, he sees Carl on the phone trying to get a word in edgewise, but seemingly unable to. Only can be one person that can have that effect on Carl, thought Brian: Debbie. It actually brings a smile to his face; and just as suddenly as the smile is there, he feels guilty for having it because the one person he would want to share that smile with is lying in the psych ward at Maine Medical Center unresponsive and uncommunicative, and probably at this point filled with Thorazine to make sure he stays docile and under control. As Carl finally hangs up the phone he turns to Brian. "Debbie says to keep your scrawny ass out of trouble from now on, and don't scare the shit out of her like that again." "Well, Carl, I have no future plans to play superhero again. In fact, I never had any plans in the first place. Things just sort of seemed to happen. Just like dominos falling, once they start, nothing can seem to stop them." "While you and Justin were at the cabin, I had my partner try to find out about our little hustler." "Carl, don't call him that. That kid saved my life. I don't know why, but I feel a connection to him. There's something there that I just can't explain." "What, this from 'I only like fucking' Kinney? Brian, what has happened to you over the last week with this kid?" "Carl, I wish I knew. The only thing I know right now is I want him to be okay; to not have to go through all of this shit." "Well, anyway, as I was saying, my partner started to check up on the little -- on Justin. Seems he has an older sister, Jessica Taylor. They were split up by the foster care system -- what a wonderful thing to do to two kids, huh? Also found out some stuff about his parents. It seems his father was sexually molesting Justin when their mother found them. She took a pitchfork to him, killed him instantly. Once they hauled her off, the kids were put into the system. The mother died in prison, committed suicide. We found Jessica out in San Francisco. It turns out she's been looking for Justin for the last three years, ever since she turned 18. When he ran away from his foster home in Ohio, he just fell off the charts, no sign of him at all. Now we know why. Anyway, Jessica is on her way out here to get her brother." At this last bit of news, Brian actually feels his heart lurch. See, God, I told you I had a heart. I have only known this kid for a week. Why the fuck do I feel this way? I suddenly feel possessive, that no way in hell am I letting someone take him from me. ____________________ The next morning finds Brian back at the hospital. As he strides down the hall towards the psychiatric ward, he sees a young woman talking with the doctor that was treating Justin last night. She looks tired and disheveled, and Brian instinctively knows that this must be Jessica Taylor. She has the look of someone who has not slept all night, instead flying cross-country to get to her brother who she has not seen in God knows how many years; probably thinking him dead all of this time. As he draws closer, he can hear part of the conversation between the young woman and the doctor. "So what you're telling me, Dr. Attfield, is that he's catatonic?" "Yes, that is correct." "And what is the prognosis?" "Well, Ms. Taylor, I don't want to couche this in terms that will be beyond you, but" -- "Okay, Doc, hold on right there," Brian hears Jessica say with an edge of anger in her voice. "I'm 21. I am in college. My fiancee is a psychiatric intern at Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital in San Francisco. I swear to God if you talk down to me, you are going to have to restrain me. I have been awake for 48 hours. I have just gotten off of a plane after eight hours in the air. I, quite frankly, don't need your bullshit right this minute. I need to know what's wrong with my brother, what his prognosis is, and can I take him the hell out of here and back home with me. Now, those seem like pretty simple questions, as far as I'm concerned. Have I couched my questions in terms you can understand and give me some straight answers?" As Brian stood there and listened to Jessica, he practically beamed. You go, girl!! Oh, God, did I just think that? I sound like Emmett, for Christ's sake. When did I become such a Queen? He had no fear that Jessica would protect her brother; she was like a mother lion, it seemed. "Well, Ms. Taylor, there is no need to be rude. I simply did not want to talk over you." "I understand, Doctor. I just want you to understand that I'm not a simpleton." "Justin, at this point, doesn't seem to be of harm to himself or anyone else. I would like to observe him for a few more days, though. I believe after this observation period, he may return with you to San Francisco; however, I would urgently recommend that he be instituionalized for a period of time." "Fine. I understand completely. Arrangements have already been made through my fiancee. Thank you, Doctor." As Brian heard this news, he felt his heart sinking. They were taking him away -- his Sunshine; that beautiful smile, that wonderful laugh, that quick wit -- and, well, let's face it Kinney, that fabulous ass. Brian brought his head up as he heard the doctor walk away and could see Jessica slump down into one of those wonderfully uncomfortable hospital chairs that lined the hallway. He walked up to the girl and cleared his throat to get her attention. "You must be Jessica, Justin's sister," Brian said. "Yes, that would be me. And you are?" "Brian Kinney. I'm Justin's neighbor. We came to my cabin here in Maine to get away from -- well, you know." "Yes, unfortunatley I do. The Pittsburgh Police have been quite vivid in filling in all of the facts of my brother's life. I think the officer that got in touch with me actually liked telling me all of the details, as perverse as that sounds." "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that you're planning on taking Justin back to San Francisco. Do you think that's wise? Wouldn't he be better off here on the East Coast where he knows some people?" Brian could feel himself grasping at straws, anything, to get her to let him stay in Pittsburgh where Justin would be close to him. Jessica, sensing that there was something going on here, and feeling too tired to mince words with this man finally said, "What, exactly, is my brother to you, Mr. Kinney?" "Please, just Brian." "Okay. What, exactly, is my brother to you, Brian? I know he's had sex with men. Are you one of those men? Are you one of the ones on the videotapes that some of those cops are probably jerking off to?" Jessica swore she wasn't going to sounds like a bitter bitch, but it was hard keeping the edge out of her voice, especially when she was so exhausted. "Actually, no, I wouldn't be one of those men. I'm the guy that got him out of there. I'm the guy that tried to make him feel safe, even though I feel like it was him that made me feel safe. I'm the guy that, for some unknown reason, needs him." Fuck, did I say that out loud? Shit, shit, shit. What is happening to me? Finally a small smile crept onto Jessica's face. She knew this man had had sex with her brother, but she also knew he was a good person, even if he would never admit it. "Tell you what, Brian, why don't you go in and see him. I am going to take him with me to San Francisco, but I can see you care for him. We'll talk about it later." ____________________ ONE YEAR LATER As Brian stands on the edge of Golden Gate Park, he can see the fog as it starts to creep in under and over the Golden Gate Bridge. He scans the area and finally finds what he's looking for. Across from an outcropping of rocks he can see where Justin has set up his easel and is trying to capture the fog as it rolls into the bay. He seems to stand there transfixed, not fully believing that this is the same person he saw a year ago. His mind wanders back to that time. Jessica checking Justin out of the hospital. Brian driving them to the Portland Internation Jetport to catch their flight to San Francisco. The feeling of loss as he watched Jessica and Justin walk down the jetway; Justin being led as if he were a five-year-old, except a five-year-old would probably be happy and excited about flying on an airplane. Justin was just compliant and nonverbal. He thinks back on all of the phone calls that he has had with Jessica. Even though they only met face to face that one time -- until now, that is -- they have struck up a good friendship; the major thing they have in common being Justin's well-being. He would call Jessica every Sunday night for a status report on Justin's condition. And if for some reason Jessica didn't hear from him, she would always make sure to get in touch with him. Brian had to admit that a special bond had developed with Jessica over both of their concern about Justin's well-being. Brian kept her informed of all the goings on in Pittsburgh, the politicians and judges who were caught in the fallout of the discovered videotapes. Even though Carl had promised him and Jessica that the tapes would not fall into the wrong hands, Brian had found that some of them had been sold on the Internet, and he did his damndest to try to find all that he could. Even though Justin was on the other side of the country, there was no telling if he would be touched by any of that again. Thank God that Carl was able to convince the DA's office that no charges were to be brought against Justin. Yeah, three people were dead at his hand, but they were all deemed self-defense. He never had to return and testify. Hell, he probably couldn't have, having been unable to speak for the first six months he was at Langley Porter, and after his seventh month there they let him move into Jessica and her fiancee's home. He still had a long way to go, but at least he could see his psychiatrist on an out-patient basis. The day Jessica had called Brian, it had scared him. Why was she calling in the middle of the day, and a Thursday at that? What had happened? All of these gruesome thoughts seemed to have run through his mind. Had Justin killed himself? That was the most constant thought. But when he heard her excitement, he knew it must be good news. He wanted to shout for joy when Jessica told him that Justin had actually spoken. And then when Jessica told him what the words were, he could feel his stomach flutter with joy. "Where's Brian?" That's a direct quote, Jessica had told him. After he hung up the phone, he told his assistant to hold all of his calls. He could barely hold it together, and he just let himself cry. And now here he stands at the edge of the park looking at a person that he thinks he can't live without. LESBIAN!! You're a fucking lesbian, his brain keeps screaming at him. Just last month Justin started auditing classes at the School of Fine Art at the University of San Francisco. Jessica told him that he planned to enroll as soon as he got his GED, which was already in progress. Brian was so proud of Justin, he felt like he was going to burst. When Brian told Jessica his plans to relocate, she grilled him incessantly; and then to top it off, her fiancee got in on the action. Ryan was just as protective of Justin as Jessica was, but he finally convinced them that he was doing all of this for the right reasons. Hell, San Francisco should be every gay man's dream home, right? Brian remembers when Jessica finally felt Justin was emotionally ready to start communicating with Brian. Things were hesitant at first. Justin wrote him how guilty he felt involving Brian in his mess. It took a lot of convincing, but Brian finally made him realize that he didn't ever do anything he didn't want to do. And then the wooing began in earnest, for that's what it was. It was a long-distance relationship, sure, but it was like they were finally beginning to get to know each other. Brian can remember when he finally opened up to Debbie about everything that was happening with him and Justin, and she sat there utterly speechless and dumbfounded; and then finally engulfed him in one of her rib-cracking hugs and said how proud she was that he had finally grown up. Brian was even more surprised when Debbie supported the plans he had to relocated, all for the sake of some blond boy ass, as Mikey so eloquently put it. Mikey was a problem that would never go away, but he was glad he had his surrogate mom's support. Brian takes a deep breath and tries to look like he's walking casually toward Justin, but inside he feels his heart pounding like a race horse's. Am I too eager? Don't appear too eager. Breathe, Kinney, just breathe. Slow down, you're walking too fast. Don't talk too loud when you get there, don't frighten him. Brian stops behind Justin, letting his shadow fall across the canvas that sits on Justin's easel. He doesn't quite know what to say at this point. All of these witty remarks were in his head when he walked over here, but they have now seemed to disappear. God, when did I become such a fag? Justin has been sensing Brian ever since he showed up 30 minutes ago, standing at the edge of the park watching him. Jessica had been dropping not-so-subtle hints all week that he might be getting a special visitor; and Justin had deduced that it could only be Brian. When he saw him out of the corner of his eye earlier, he thought everyone in the park could probably hear his heart beating. Justin decides to play it cool and not acknowlege Brian. Since apparently Brian isn't going to say anything, just stand there, Justin takes a deep calming breath, finally turns around and flashes Brian a big smile and says, "Well, it's about fucking time you walked over here." That seemed to bring Brian out of his trance-like state, as he grabbed Justin and hugged him like his life depended on it. "I'm home, Sunshine."